Out of the East
by Rianiel
Summary: A treacherous tree root makes Boromir miss his appointment with Death, but now he has a sprained ankle to deal with. Should the fellowship welcome the young healer, who has stumbled into their midst? AU
1. A Treacherous Tree Root

Newly revised with my beta Virtuella.

I'm only 14 and new to Fan Fiction. This is my first ever attempt at a Lord of the Rings story, so please forgive me if my story isn't perfect or includes all of Tolkien's masterpiece.

Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated because I aim to improve :).

Rianiel

* * *

Chapter One

A Treacherous Tree Root

A lone figure was seen sprawled in the heart of a leafy clearing. The trees towered around him, appearing tall and menacing despite the shafts of pearly sunlight that filtered through the branches and leaves. The scene was dim despite the brightness of the day. All song of bird and brook appeared to be hushed, as if brought on by the very presence of danger and evil.

"What have I done?" Boromir lifted his head slightly, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Come back! Frodo please! Come back! Madness claimed me, but it is gone! Please! Come back!"

He collapsed to the ground, fear and guilt surging through him.

"I am sorry Frodo," he whispered into his hands, leaves clinging limply to his disheveled dark hair. "I am so sorry…"

--

Aragorn stood at the top of Amon Hen with Pippin at his side, his mind whirring with thoughts. A disturbance in the trees made him glance up, bringing him back to the present. It was Frodo.

"Frodo," he said, eyeing the hobbit's distressed state. "Where is Boromir?"

Frodo's eyes were wild, his hair knotted with a few twigs and branches. "He – he... I must leave, Aragorn!" he said, mumbling slightly and fiddling with the chain on which the ring hung.

"Frodo …," began Aragorn, but before he could speak Frodo's voice grew more alarmed.

"Aragorn, he tried to take the ring!" said Frodo, his voice rising. "I have to get away!" And without another word, he turned and dashed frantically through the trees.

"W-what does this mean?" said Pippin, frowning beside Aragorn's elbow. "What about Boromir? I have just returned to look for Frodo but …"

Aragorn's brow knotted in thought. "I was about to think …"

Pippin watched him with a pained expression and jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Merry. He was breathing fast as if he had run a mile.

"Strider – I've seen disturbances in the woods..."

"That would be Boromir, he's looking for Frodo, but he's gone!" said Pippin.

"What are you saying? Boromir isn't with Frodo?" said Merry alarmed. Pippin nodded, looking fearful. "He tried to take the ring!" he said.

"No …"

"Right, I'm going to look for him, are you coming with me, Merry?" said Pippin, adopting a soldierly stance. Merry looked uncertain. Aragorn, who was deep in thought, eyed them both warily.

Hobbits … so brave yet so foolhardy …

"Right, search the area if you must, look for Sam, we need him and make haste," he said. "If the worst comes, run for cover. We will meet you."

Both Hobbits nodded, then turned and left the clearing. But just as soon as they left, an unearthly roar ruptured the air in the distance, causing streams of birds to flee from the treetops. It sounded horribly familiar …but surely not at Amon Hen … Aragorn felt he would have heard it … sensed it even …

"Time to keep them at bay" murmured Aragorn, drawing his sword, "time to slay the vermin."

--

The girl rushed desperately through the trees, trying to escape the army of Orcs she believed was chasing after her. She could hear voices resonating up ahead. Her heart twanged with a rush of hope. People! she thought, maybe they can help me! She hurried herself along as fast as she could…

--

Aragorn drew his sword; it glinted in the sunlight. Suddenly he heard the light footsteps of the elf behind him. There was a faint frown on Legolas' face.

"I have seen Frodo nearing the lake, Sam is running after him, so are Merry and Pippin. Gimli is still scouting the area."

Aragorn had no time to marvel at his friend's speed in dashing from the lake to the top of the hill in time. "Aragorn," Legolas continued, looking strained, "danger is near."

Aragorn nodded darkly as Legolas took out two arrows and loaded them.

Just then, they heard a noise from among the trees. Legolas and Aragorn exchanged looks of gritty determination and raised their weapons, preparing to fight, but as the branches of the thick trees were pushed apart, out tumbled – a young woman.

Aragorn nearly swung his sword into a nearby tree, as he made to strike. He stared nonplussed at the woman. Even Legolas seemed mildly surprised. The woman looked terrified and disheveled. Her long brown hair was matted across her sweaty, swarthy face and her brown eyes were wide with alarm. She was leaning her weight gingerly upon one leg, as the other was bleeding profusely. A few arrows were broken in the quiver on her back and the bow was slung limply on her right shoulder.

"What is this?" said Aragorn. "A woman?" He stepped forward. "Are you hurt?" he asked, looking concerned.

The woman instinctively backed up, getting into a fighting stance, though her eyes betrayed her true feelings.

Aragorn sighed slightly. "I do not wish to hurt you."

She didn't move. She eyed him critically with her beady, brown eyes; she looked on the verge of tears.

"Look, I will drop my sword," said Aragorn. "We are not armed, we are not a threat. Legolas, was it this woman you saw in the woods?"

Still feeling frightened, the woman grabbed a particularly sharp stick and pulled it back in her bow. Aragorn fought to suggest her action was rather stupid. Legolas shook his head. "She's loading a stick," he said, with the trace of a smirk.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Well, you do not say!" she snapped, but her anger faded as her leg gave a painful twinge. She winced. Legolas' face seemed momentarily annoyed at her angry remark.

"There is no need to speak in such a way," he said coolly.

But the girl, despite fighting the pain in her leg, gave a short, scathing laugh. However, she took one look at his ominous caress of his arrow and was silenced.

Aragorn ignored her laugh.

"Who are you?" he asked her sternly.

The woman said nothing.

"Who? If you do not answer me, woman, I will suspect you are a spy and my kindness will have come to an end"

"I am not a spy," she said finally, her tone hurried and rueful as she realized that the orcs could be near. "Sorry, no time to explain," she blanched as she heard a roar from the trees, which confirmed her fears.

"They're coming … those creatures," she whispered, then backed up, "I'm getting away from here before I get slaughtered! I have managed to get cover thus far and do not wish to lose it so they find me. I suggest you do the same!"

Aragorn shook his head; of course he would fight! Yet he had learned as a commander to know when someone was speaking the truth. The woman was no decoy into an ambush and seemed to be running from the grasp of the wretched orcs, and seemed convincingly afraid.

"You will not get slaughtered. We wish to fight and perhaps save you," said Legolas.

The woman gulped, though she shot the elf a glowering look. Then, just as expected, about fifty orcs emerged from the trees, screaming their battle cries. The woman gave a gasp and shout of pain as her leg gave another twinge. She tripped over clumsily in her haste to run away. Legolas sprang forth and shot an arrow at an orc; it pierced cleanly through its ugly head.

Aragorn butchered another orc. "You there, miss," he shouted over the ruckus of the battle.

"My name is Livia!" the woman cried, trying to massage her leg. On closer inspection it was badly bruised.

"Very well, Livia," called Aragorn while parrying an orc blade, "Do you believe you could help us?"

Livia seemed puzzled but listened all the same.

"Can you walk?" asked Aragorn. Livia nodded hurriedly.

"Go into the forest and help our friends. Look for Boromir; he is a man in regal armour and two small men, the size of boys …"

"Who?"

Aragorn dodged a flying scimitar from an orc, slashed its chest and kicked it forcefully to the floor.

"Boromir and two Halflings" panted Aragorn. Another orc, who had seen this, came darting over, roaring furiously. "They may be in danger."

Livia raised her brown eyebrows. "Very well," she said.

Aragorn smiled slightly as Legolas fended off three particularly fat orcs with blunt scimitars that fell uselessly to the floor when his arrows pierced all three of them.

"Go then ..."

"Very well, very well," Livia said hastily, she then turned and stalked away into the forest, though limping slightly. A few orcs had seen her go and made to charge after her, but Aragorn turned and raised his sword above his head.

Mighty kings who have died in battle, he thought, protect her! Allow her to find them … May she be of use to our friends who are in danger. He brought his sword down on an orc's head, splitting its flesh and cracking its skull. Let her help! He thought fiercely.

--

Boromir marched unhappily through the trees, his ears alert for any noise. He had called out Frodo's name, hoping the small hobbit would emerge tentatively behind a boulder. All events forgiven. But nothing of the sort occurred. So he reluctantly gave up and decided to retrace his steps, hoping to come across a member of the Fellowship.

Suddenly, he felt the ground begin to shake, but this new noise was mingled with the sound of two people's shouting his quarry's name.

His heart leapt and his pace quickened.

"Hello?" he called through the trees. "Gimli? Merry?"

Nobody answered, except the continuous shouts of -

"Frodo!"

"FRODO!"

It was Merry and Pippin! Inwardly rejoicing and feeling very relieved, Boromir ran flat out through the forest. However, another cry rang out in the air which made him nearly stop in his tracks. It was an unearthly, angry cry that certainly did not belong to Merry or Pippin.

He ran on further, fear creeping through him as he heard the noises getting louder. He drew his sword – only a bit further and he would discover the source of the noise.

Rushing past a tree, he came to a scene which made his heart pump out of control: Merry and Pippin were being carried away on the backs of a group of orcs. But they could not be orcs – these ones were large and brawny with a white hand streaked across their backs.

"No!" he yelled, tearing across a stream which lay between him and the hobbits. But they were fading further away into the depths of the forests, their yells of fury and panic gradually vanishing…

"NO! MERRY! PIPPIN!"

Boromir continued to run, his heart beats pounding in his ears, his broad sword clenched tightly in his sweaty hand. Maybe he should get out the Horn of Gondor? He glanced on ahead and saw the black mass of the orcs melting from view…

Suddenly, he felt something catching on his left foot. Next thing he knew, the damp, earthy smell of the forest floor was filling up his nostrils while a livid pain shot through his chest and right foot. Cursing, he forced himself to roll over, but his body refused to move. He simply lay there, with the pain attacking each limb. It was too late now to reach the hobbits.

--

Livia hared through the trees, but a short distance away she saw something on the ground. Her gaze fell to the limp form of a man, lying spread-eagled on the forest floor. She stopped quickly before she ran into him and observed him with surprise. However, she accidentally stood on his hand and he let out a faint moan.

"Oh – my goodness" she breathed, kneeling down at his side. She saw him peer vaguely up at her through the dark strands of his hair.

"I am so sorry," she said. "Are you hurt?"

Boromir gave a small nod in response.

"Whereabouts?" she asked him. He pointed a shaking finger to his chest and to his feet.

"Very well," said Livia hurriedly, fumbling about in a small bag slung on her shoulder. "I am going to tend to you."

"Who are you?" asked Boromir hoarsely. Livia heard the suspicion in his tone. "Not an enemy. Are you Boromir? I think I have seen your friends. An elf and a man with dark hair?"

He nodded again and so Livia set to work. She felt calmer than before, now that her task was laid clearly before her. Being pursued by the Orcs had driven her mind into blind panic and she had snapped angrily at a bunch of strangers who had saved her life.

She winced at the thought as she drew out a small cloth, dabbing at a trickle of blood that was seeping from Boromir's chest. She also noticed that his foot was swelling up visibly. A sharp tree root stuck out nearby, so she guessed this man had taken a vigorous tumble.

Sprained ankle, very swollen, she thought vaguely, as she rummaged through a case of oddly shaped phials, and bruised chest, though slight bleeding. Finally she pulled out the desired bottle and uncorked it. A smell of burnt fabric wafted from it. Wrinkling her nose, Livia poured it onto the wound on Boromir's chest and on his foot. His clothing began to dissolve from this strange substance, replacing all lingering pain with a sensation of prickling numbness. Livia saw his worried gaze.

"Nothing to worry about," she said soothingly, patting his head. "This is going to numb your pain and clean all of those nasty wounds.'

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, staring at her in bewilderment.

"I … what … what is this witchery?"

"Witchery?" said Livia sharply, looking down at him. "No, my good sir, it is not witchery at all. Only humble medicine from my home. It does work. Trust me."

Boromir stared up at her, gave another nod and allowed for her to wrap strips of cloth securely around his chest and foot.

"You may feel a slight twinge –." She held him firmer as Boromir's body began to jerk with fresh stabs of pain.

"Shh, be still, settle down, it will fade now …"

"What is happening … what – stop this! I feel no better …"

"I thought you said you trusted me?" asked Livia, holding him steady as he looked up at her. Boromir relaxed, but continued to look worried. A thought seemed to creep up on his face.

"The Halflings, did you see them?"

"The what? No … no … I only ran into you."

Boromir opened his mouth with alarm. "We were too late. They took them. And Frodo … did you see him?"

Livia looked down at him sadly, softly stroking the strands of his hair in an attempt to calm him. "No," she said quietly. "I do not know anyone by the name of Frodo." She paused in the sinuous combing as Boromir's face drained of all colour.

"No … no … he cannot have gone."

"Shhhhh, will you?" she said to him, a note of impatience wedged in her tone. Boromir was silenced, but continued to look slightly fearful. "Be calm, Boromir, Frodo has gone. There is nothing you can do except heal. How is your foot?"

Boromir gave it a tentative shake and was greatly surprised to feel no twinge of pain rocket up his leg. He raised his head to face Livia, his mouth tilting with a smile of great appreciation.

"It is fine! How did you –?"

He was cut off suddenly by the arrival of the man she had spoken to earlier haring desperately through the trees. He looked fresh from battle: his raven hair was matted with sweat and what seemed to be blood and his brow was specked with flecks of dirt.

--

"Boromir!" Aragorn said loudly. "What is the matter with him?"

The woman, who had called herself Livia, stepped back. "See for yourself."

He fell to his knees beside Boromir, and then embraced him like a brother, losing his dignified manner in this emotional moment.

"Boromir" he said, looking speechless, "this truly is a blessing. Were you grievously injured?"

"A sprained ankle, Aragorn my friend, and a bruised chest, but all is – healed."

"So quickly?" Aragorn's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Livia backed away. Picking up her bag and phial off the leafy ground, she began to slouch away and out of sight. Yet Boromir, who had risen, called to her.

"Wait!"

Aragorn looked at him. "What are you doing?"

"What has happened is all too intriguing, my friend. Who is she? I saw, with my own eyes," he swallowed. "She has relieved my wounds, which would have taken days, if not weeks to heal, with an array of the most unique medicines."

He stopped as he realized he sounded quite manic. He gained some composure.

"So - " Aragorn, who had been thrown by the news of Livia, broke off. "Where are the hobbits?"

Boromir sighed. "The Orcs have taken Merry and Pippin"

Aragorn's brow knotted with thought as this news passed through his mind.

Livia, who had been standing quite still, spoke up. "I have never seen such Orcs wandering these lands. I have thought they only dwelled in the depths of the Misty Mountains and in the dark lands of Mordor. But these Orcs are very strange. Unnaturally big. Something strange must be at work if this new breed of Orc is lurking about."

"Yes" said Aragorn, observing Livia closely. "I agree."

She smiled slightly and gave him a pleading look. "This worries me. If there are more of them around, I would be very afraid to travel on alone. You seem trustworthy. Wherever you're going, could I come with you till you reach more civilized parts?"

Legolas swapped edgy looks with Aragorn.

"We have not a clue who you are" said Aragorn plainly. "We have other business we must attend to, which cannot wait."

"I am not an enemy." She indicated Boromir. "Do you see him suffering a painful death from the use of my medicines?" Aragorn brow rose as she said this, but Livia seemed quite unabashed. An eager smile lifted her face. "I would be willing to help in looking for your friends."

Aragorn sighed, resignedly wishing he could flop down onto a rock and mull over his thoughts clearly. "I do not know," he said cagily, stroking his stubbly chin. "For a stranger to come with us. We have not decided on a path yet. We may have to travel fast. Would you be able to keep up?"

Livia's smile became rather fixed. "I can run. And I have my uses," she said. "I may not be expertly skilled in weaponry as such as yourselves, but you never know when you might need a healer again."

"Yes … that is true," said Aragorn pensively. He eyed her closely. He believed she was genuine. It seemed unkind to leave her to her fate in these dangerous parts. "Do you truly wish to come with us because you seek protection?"

At this moment, two more people came clattering into the clearing. Legolas tore down from the banks, closely followed by a panting Gimli who was flushed in the face.

"I have seen Frodo and Sam leave on a boat down the Anduin" said Legolas. Aragorn, who was immersed in thought, blinked and surveyed the elf, the matter of Livia drawn cleanly from his mind.

"Thank goodness" said Boromir. He looked quite sheepish. "I – I was worried where he had gone too. Unfortunately, the last I saw of him he was running away from me. I admit something awful possessed me too –."

He was cut off cleanly by Aragorn. "I know, Boromir. I met Frodo, before he went down to the shore. It seems that our paths are meant to part here."

Boromir opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by the look Aragorn gave him.

"He means to travel alone," said Gimli slowly.

"So be it," said Aragorn. "We will not go after them." His eyes then snapped to Livia.

"I wish your friend's luck with their travels" she said. "And in response to your question, I am not so sure. If anything, I have never seen such an odd group; an Elf, a Dwarf, two Men. Never in my life have I ever seen nor heard of a – a Hobbit. It is most curious. But I trust you, because you saved me from the Orcs earlier on."

A pause issued as she said this and only the faint twittering of birds in the afternoon air could be heard.

"I agree with her," said Boromir. "There is no reason why she should not be trusted. I am healed, just as she said."

After what seemed an age, Aragorn spoke. "Do any of us have any qualms? Legolas …?"

The tall elf was silent for a moment as his eyes scanned Livia closely. She reddened slightly. "It seems not...," he said slowly.

Gimli leaned heavily on his axe and eyed her closely. "She looks a wee bit weedy, but if she can cure a man as brawny as Boromir, she can sort out her leg. Aye, I have no objections Aragorn."

"Boromir?" asked Aragorn, even though he knew his friend's answer.

"Of course I do not object," he said.

"Very well," sighed Aragorn. "You may come with us till we reach more civilized parts." He paused and stroked his chin again. "And … in return you could reveal to me some of your secrets, Miss Livia, should the opportunity arise. I am a healer myself and would be pleased to learn from you."

"Certainly," she replied, smiling slightly.

"I would see to your leg, lass," said Gimli sharply. "Yes, yes" said she. "Right away, I have some healing balms in my bag which I can put on and -"

"Be quick," interrupted Aragorn. "Now that is settled, we shall go and search for our friends. Let's hunt some orc!"

The sun set on Middle Earth as the remainder of the Fellowship set out with Livia in tow. They were going to save Merry and Pippin, whatever it took.


	2. O'er Yonder Crags

Constructive criticism please :)

Chapter Two:

O'er Yonder Crags

They raced along sweeping plains dotted with boulders. They paced through jagged gorges and past the lopsided mouths of caves, surrounded by mossy rocks. And they tore down shale-sloped banks, which rimmed the banks of small rivers.

Livia was very tired.

A painful stitch had crept up her side and the muscles in her cured leg had stiffened due to the properties of the balms. She was not a fast runner compared to the rest of the group, save Gimli the Dwarf. So, to save any precious remnants of energy, she ran with him at the rear.

In the evening, they paused atop a small hill. Aragorn sought to make a small fire which warmed them all up, and handed out small portions of a food called Lembas bread.

Livia looked uncertainly down at her inch-sized chunk, that Gimli handed her.

"Is this it?" she whispered to him. He gave a nod and small chuckle in response.

"It's elvish bread, s'posed to fill a man's stomach up with one small bite."

Livia raised her eyebrows doubtfully.

"It doesn't even look that tasty" she murmured in an undertone, carefully watching Legolas out of the corner of her eye. She had been told the elf had very acute hearing.

But her cynicism vanished when she nibbled a corner and immediately a rush of strength shot through her body. Her stomach seemed to swell, as if she had just finished eating a whole roast chicken and the thought of more consumption made her feel slightly sick.

"Well?" said Gimli, who had been watching her.

"Nope," she told him mulishly, fighting a smirk. "No difference at all. I feel as hollow as the shells that lie on the shores. I would request Aragorn to hunt a stag for me, but I haven't the heart to tell him."

Gimli erupted into a wave of chuckles and Livia thought she saw Legolas give her a small wink. Feeling very full and peaceful with the world, her eyes strayed to Boromir who sat staring unseeingly into the fire.

A hand was loosely clutching his chest, and his injured foot was resting on a rock. Remembering her stiffened muscles, she wondered how he was faring.

Glancing at Aragorn, who was whispering something to Legolas, she shifted over and tentatively prodded him in the back.

"How is your ankle?" she asked. Boromir seemed to snap out of a deep reverie and turned to look at her.

"Very – very well, thank you," he said, but he didn't sound certain.

"You cannot fool me, I know my own medicines," said Livia earnestly. "Is there a rash on your – "

"– there is a small one, yes" said Boromir shortly. His head turned to face her.

"Do these aftereffects fade soon?" he enquired sharply. "Because I cannot be doing with it, I must be in full health."

Livia moistened her lower lip, looking at his faintly frowned face glowing golden in the firelight.

"Of course," she said steadily, biting back a retort for his brusqueness. "It won't be long. You would have to wait."

"Good."

"Yes … good."

Livia turned to leave Boromir's side, but Aragorn addressed her.

"Livia."

"Yes?" she said, glancing at him across the fire whilst dusting a few twigs on the ground so she could sit.

"What is your tale?"

"My tale?" She frowned slightly but Aragorn appeared quite composed. She stared at him for a few moments, feeling a slight prickle of discomfort – his gaze was critical and she knew any lie would be fished out easily. But they could never know the whole story – not now. Not when she was feeling quite sleepy and content.

"Yes, your tale," he repeated. "Why do you travel these lands?"

Livia felt Boromir sit up and shift his concentration to look at her. Gimli, who was just about to take a swig of water, slowly lowered his hipflask, eyeing her closely.

"Well – yes," she said, smiling awkwardly and trying to act as if the question was not significant. "My tale is not really that special. It's quite boring really –." She broke off as she distinctly heard Boromir mutter: "Get on with it."

"I just travel these lands to gain knowledge as a healer. I recently left a group of people –"

"Who?" interrupted Boromir, not failing to keep his voice down this time.

"The Bardings," she replied, smiling baldly. She felt Aragorn give a small nod his head, which she took as an indication he understood. And of course it was true, the Bardings were a group of people renowned to possess some good knowledge in healing and Livia was relieved to see that Aragorn appeared to be thinking along the same lines.

"The men of Dale," he said thoughtfully to himself. "Fierce, brave men they are, but I fear for their future. You know of the slayer of the dragon Smaug?"

Livia smiled widely.

"Of course: King Esgaroth. Or as he was known before, Bard the Bowman for his supreme skill with the bow."

There was a short silence and Livia saw Gimli and Aragorn look at each other with raised eyebrows, mildly impressed.

"And who is currently King of Dale, now?" asked Boromir sharply.

It was Livia's turn to raise her eyebrows,

"What is this? Some sort of interrogation?"

"Yes," said Aragorn plainly, "you are a stranger to us, so we wish to know more about you."

Livia's hand had begun to coil the strands of her brown hair and she gave a small nod. Aragorn was quite right.

"Well yes, and the answer to your question is that King Brand is the current ruler. Now please, I wish to not be questioned further. I'm tired."

Aragorn took a bite of Lembas, eating it with a wry look washing over his rugged face.

"As you wish, but I was not going to interrogate you further, Miss Livia. Good-night.'

"Yes," she said.

And as she turned her head away, smiling sheepishly; she hoped that Aragorn could not see her flaming cheeks. Only then did it occur to her that she had not had the opportunity to ask her new companions about their own background

- - - - - -- -

Before she knew, three days had flown past and Livia waited in vain for one of the others to protest giving her a reason to gain some strength. At last, her wish was granted. After what seemed like forever, Gimli spoke up.

He wheezed loudly from the back of their group, "Three days of running! Only brief rests! No proper food! Cannae endure this for much longer, Aragorn!"

Livia nodded, failing to disguise the fatigue in her voice. "Neither can I …" she said hoarsely, thinking longingly of a drink of water.

Aragorn didn't even turn. "Merry and Pippin would have done the same for you, Son of Gloìn" he said with a sigh, stopping ahead. "Livia, you are under no obligation to stay, it was your choice to join us."

"I am staying," said Livia flatly, clutching a stitch in her side. "But, I implore for a breather – "

"– Fine, we shall rest," said Aragorn, "yet only briefly," he added curtly as he eyed Gimli flopping down onto a rock, his body positively heaving with puffs of breath.

He seated himself on a nearby boulder and put his face in his hands, massaging his temples.

Livia watched him, feeling very foolish and guilty as she drank from her small flask of water. The hobbits were these people's friends … And they were resting, mainly for her sake, let alone for a moaning dwarf's. She suspected, if it had only been Gimli requesting a rest, they would have been less sympathetic. But of course, they considered her to "a wee bit weedy" … maybe they hoped she would go … Aragorn had hinted that she was not obliged to stay…

The last thing she needed was to be a burden …

With her mind made up, she tentatively approached Aragorn. "If you want to keep going, we can. I can rest later. I do not want to be a burden," she said.

Aragorn, who was sitting stiffly on the edge of a boulder, looked sharply up at her. She marveled inwardly at how on edge and alert he was.

"I would not wish to abandon you to your fate, Livia, since you have sought my protection. Yet if you do not have the strength…"

"Oh, I have," said Livia quickly, "I have a medicine that will be able to revive me, and maybe all of you as well. I have recently been using a new herb I have discovered. Its properties are utterly astounding."

Aragorn arched an eyebrow and Livia took this an indication he was listening.

"I – I found it whilst I was traveling, for a while," she said. "At the time, I was ailing under a fever and my cooling salves had run scarce, but what should I find in my wandering path? The air was filled with a faint, sweet, aromatic scent and thus, I discovered this wondrous weed, growing in abundance in a fertile wood. I picked some of it, and that evening, as I was sitting darning my tunic, I felt curious…I arose, I settled myself before my fire and started to strip it down. The hours were long and wearisome. I thought failure was afoot but after the fifth hour, I was successful. With a cool rag, I placed it's quantity upon my brow, waited, and -" she drew breath, "– by morn, I was relieved of my fever! It was incredible! I also felt strengthened and refreshed like I had not felt for many weeks. I would certainly recommend it to each of you here!"

Aragorn leaned forwards on his rock, his brow furrowed with thought.

"I have always had an interest in new ways of healing," he said pensively. "And to broaden my skills …"

"That is very good to know," said Livia delightedly. "I would be delighted to teach you it! In fact, I have the very herb with me, so I can show you."

"What's this?" said a voice. Gimli appeared, followed closely by Boromir and Legolas. "Did I hear something about a miraculous, new herb?"

"Yes, I discovered it," said Livia breathlessly, as she rummaged about her bag. "Gather round, gather round, I'll show you it and what it does."

"I wonder …," said Legolas.

The four of them congregated curiously around, as Livia finally extracted a small box from her bag and opened it. A smug grin was set on her face as she lifted up a small green plant with a flourish.

"Oh, that's just _Athelas,_" shrugged Aragorn, squinting at the plant.

"What?" said Livia sharply, refusing for the grin to slip off her face whilst still holding the plant aloft like some sort of trophy.

"_Kingsfoil, Athelas, asëa, aranion_…_,_" said Aragorn, sinking back onto the rock and waving his hand casually with each name. "It's a very common herb."

"Oh …," said Livia, who looked thoroughly deflated. She slowly lowered her arm, stuffing the herb roughly into her bag with much less delicacy than before. "Oh, right."

"Athelas normally takes under an hour take effect," Aragorn pressed on musingly. "It's a shame it took you a whole night."

"Yes … but on the contrary … "murmured Livia, averting her eyes to the ground.

Legolas and Boromir wandered away in silence. Gimli was sat on the ground, looking determinedly away and shaking with suppressed mirth. Somehow, Livia wished she could vanish, at least then she could hide the nasty, brick colour which was burning her cheeks.

She stood awkwardly for a few moments, when Aragorn rose and beckoned for the others to follow him up the mountain ridge. Gimli got up from the ground complaining. "Not again, I only just settled down, can the man no' do a single breather?'

"Apparently not," grumbled Livia to herself. She was feeling quite hostile towards the dwarf for sniggering, and his moaning did nothing to improve her declining mood. Before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth and snapped:

"Cease moaning will you? It won't bring back the Hobbits!"

However, she regretted it as soon as she said it. She clamped her hands to her mouth, her brown eyes wide.

Gimli blinked.

"Well, I never," he muttered, eyeing her darkly.

"Sorry," she said ruefully. "I have a foolish tongue, as well as lack of knowledge of herbs." She gave a short, dry laugh. "Don't worry Gimli, you won't run alone. I will stay with you at your pace."

His beard twitched and Livia knew he was smiling.

"Aye, you be right. I appreciate your offer... it is most kind."

At this she raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Aye, I hate having to motivate myself, urging for my feet to run and my lungs to keep breathing! Now it's less embarrassing." He winked at her.

Livia laughed, and this time it was genuine. "We can suffer together then, what an unfit pair of beggars we are, "she said.

"Pah, speak for yourself, woman!"

And without another word, they hurried to catch up with the others, chortling to themselves.

--

As the unbridled journey progressed, the scenery around them grew wilder. They seemed to fly along the ground, passing magnanimously high cliffs under gigantic, arching clouds. The wind was behind them, and gave them strength and speed as if the Valar themselves were pushing them along with their mighty fingers.

Once while they were running, Legolas stopped and whispered to himself, the setting sun casting a red light on his golden hair.

"It is a red sunset," he said softly. Aragorn looked quickly at him. "Blood has been spilt this night…"

Eventually they came to a small gorge, and that was when Aragorn threw himself to the ground and pressed his ear to the earth.

"Their pace has quickened," he murmured into the rock, "I can sense it … less than a day's journey. Hurry!"

He leaped up with amazing vigour, as if he had not been running since the break of dawn, and scrambled up the hill.

Legolas stopped and turned to the others. "Come! Quickly!" When they reached the peak, Livia saw Aragorn stop and gaze with wonder over the distant, rolling hills.

"Rohan," he whispered, "home of the Horse Lords. I wonder if our friends are here…" His eyes were troubled. Livia, who was staggering up the rocks, drew next to him. Her long, brown hair was swaying idly in the evening wind, but like Aragorn, she felt worried.

"We'll find them," she said, hoping her words didn't sound empty. "You shall see."

Aragorn did not smile, but gave an appreciative, rather curt nod. Satisfied, Livia walked away and watched Legolas gracefully walk up another rock.

Aragorn called to him. "Legolas! What do your elven eyes see over yonder land?"

Legolas squinted. "Our quarry has turned North East!" He then blanched. "They are taking the Hobbits to Isengard!"

"No!" exclaimed Gimli, his head looking from Legolas to Aragorn, as if either of them was concealing a joke.

Aragorn's eyes grew wide. "Saruman…" He spoke the name like it was poison. Livia had heard of the might of the White Wizard, long ago from her mother.

"The White Wizard?" asked Livia, wondering why Aragorn was looking so fearful.

"Yes," said Aragorn, giving Livia's confused face a sideways glance. "We fear he may have some responsibility for the uneasiness that is at work in this land. Power is easily used to bend others to do their bidding."

"Then, if he has succumbed to a darker force, then … a lot of dangerous things could occur!"

Aragorn slowly nodded his head in reply, looking grim.

Livia felt her skin grow cold and found herself clinging to Gimli. Finally realizing what she was doing, she moved herself away as politely as possible. Gimli arched an eyebrow at her, sensing her motives.

"We have to hurry, who knows what they are facing. I hope we are not too late," said Boromir.

Livia shook her head. "No, I deem not."

Boromir fixed her with a skeptical gaze. "Why do you say that?" She flushed at the powerful, piercing eyes that were staring down at her and looked away, becoming very interested with pulling at the edge of her frayed tunic. Eventually, she glanced up and said. "Nobody likes a naysayer, Boromir."

She flashed him a dry smile. He didn't return it.

Luckily, Aragorn's loud voice cut through the uncomfortable moment

"Come, Livia may be right" said Aragorn, "I have a feeling Saruman would want them alive, and hopefully unspoilt. Come! Let's go!"


	3. The White Wanderer

_Thank you to all my reviewers and as ever, I urge you to put forth any constructive criticism you can give._

* * *

Chapter three

The White Wanderer 

The group paused for another rest that evening. Once again, Aragorn got a fire going to warm them all and Lembas was passed around as the evening meal.

Livia stared dolefully at her piece, even though she knew it would quash her irksome, hungering pains. However, she felt she would give anything to just eat a leg of juicy chicken, or beef, sprinkled with local herbs and spices, accompanied with a rich glass of Khandish liqueur …

As these thoughts crossed her mind, her stomach clenched painfully and it was a moment later that Livia realised, she missed her home.

Speaking of home … it seemed to be the topic of the evening. The atmosphere was more cheerful than the previous night, and it was Boromir who was conducting the conversation, talking full flow about his childhood in Gondor.

"I think I was eleven when my father told me about the White Tree," he mused, smiling reminiscently into the fire. "But I think I was about fifteen when I understood the importance of it. Prior to that I didn't always respect it as I should. Father had been most displeased when Faramir and I suggested we decorate it with flags and streamers, as a surprise for his fifty-sixth birthday …" he broke off, allowing Gimli to snort with laughter. Even Aragorn grinned. "I was only eight though at the time," smiled Boromir sheepishly. "I was only young."

"Can you be sure of that?" chuckled Gimli.

Boromir laughed softly. "Very sure, Gimli. But the funniest time was when I was ten. Faramir and I cut up a household ledger in an attempt to make a paper sculpture for our mother's birthday …" he paused, "… before she passed away the following year. Father hated the thing, but … she loved it."

Livia found herself looking at him, her chin resting on her hands.

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother," she said. The jovial mood seemed to drop a fraction, as the smile faded from Boromir's face. He nodded somberly.

However the cheery atmosphere returned as Gimli said: "You…should tell us a bit more about yourself, Livia."

She smiled wryly. "What is there to know? A failed and unfit healer sits in your midst."

Boromir frowned at her. "Nonsense, my ankle is healing, just as you said –."

"– I was jesting, Boromir," said Livia wearily, rubbing her temples. "I don't take myself too seriously."

"Glad to hear it," said Gimli. "So? What is your tale?"

"What is there to know of a healer from your part?" spoke Legolas.

"A good question," said Boromir sharply, sitting up a little.

"Well …" she began, glancing edgily at Boromir, "if you want to know specifically what I am, " she faltered as she felt Aragorn who was watching her closely. "I am a Variag from Khand."

The mood around the fire changed dramatically, as if the group had seen her sprout an extra head. Livia realised that Boromir and Legolas had risen, and within an instant she was flat on the ground, facing the tip of Boromir's broad sword and an arrow from Legolas's bow.

"W- What? –" she began to stammer, as she stared up at them both. They glared fiercely down at her.

"I should have known!" hissed Boromir, jabbing the tip closer. "A Variag! You are a spy! I knew this Barding rubbish made no sense –"

"Boromir," warned a voice. Aragorn had also risen and one arm was poised on Boromir's shoulder, urging him back. "Leave her."

"What?" exclaimed Boromir angrily, his eyes wide with anger. "I would do nothing of the sort! Khand has been an enemy of Gondor throughout the Ages and –."

"– I am familiar with its history," said Aragorn sternly. "I have ventured to the Eastern Lands, where the stars are strange, and not all Variags are influenced by the ways of Sauron. She is in allegiance with the Bardings, but…" he stared hard at Livia. "A full story Miss Livia, if you please."

It took a few moments for these words to sink in. She still felt too alarmed and taken aback by the weapons pointing at her, but then again, she knew they had reason.

"Of course," muttered Livia distractedly, tearing her eyes away from Boromir's angry ones. "I … my family is from Lower Khand, in the desert region. We have been friendly with Rómestámo for generations and - "

"– Alatar?" asked Aragorn sharply. "One of the Blue Wizards?"

"Yes," said Livia, feeling slightly relieved that Aragorn understood her. Her confidence grew a fraction. "Yes, our family has always supported him. Especially my mother, she was a Wise Woman, known to teach others expertly of his ways. But our family never lived in one place, no, we are very much like nomads."

"And why are you not with your family?" asked Aragorn steadily.

"Ran away to Saruman did you?" said Boromir suspiciously.

"I – I," she began to falter as she caught Boromir's stern glance. "I - I'm getting there. Sauron's influence in our land was stronger than ever, so we decided to search for other allies of Alatar. We ended up travelling out of Khand in our small group and found another, the Bardings, dwelling in Erebor – c-can you _please_ remove your weapons?" She glanced up at Legolas and Boromir and both stubbornly shook their heads.

"Only when you are finished with your tale," said Legolas plainly. Livia thought it best not to argue and continued, though somewhat wearily.

"We stayed with the group for a while," she pressed on in a hurried, flat voice. "They learnt much from my mother from what she had learnt from Alatar. However, she died two years ago from an illness her medicines could not cure, but she knew it was her time," she drew breath and continued. "So, I was left alone. My father had died in the wars between the tribes back home and my brother had joined the elite as a Variag Spearman. During my time there, I learnt the foundation skills of healing, but I left, because I wanted to reach the highest grade of healer status: self-discovery – "

She broke off as she thought she heard someone mutter the word, "Athelas", under their breath. The sardonic smiles passed between Gimli and Legolas confirmed the source of mirth. She ignored them both.

"I always wanted to go alone, but I did not want to leave mother. But when she passed away, I knew now was the perfect time. Alas, my travels were not smooth. Much of the Shadow from Mordor has been released and it came to greater prominence when I crossed the path of a group of large, strange Orcs at Amon Hen. And of course, I ran into you lot wandering about …" She left the sentence unfinished but received no elaboration, save a lingering silence.

Releasing a long sigh, she stared witheringly up at Boromir.

"Does that appease your suspicions?"

Boromir said nothing.

"I am _not _an enemy, or a spy," she said, with a touch of testiness. "And if I wanted to kill any of you I would have had the perfect opportunity in doing so, when I discovered Boromir."

This seemed to lift the tension slightly. Aragorn, who had been listening attentively to every word Livia had said, gave a small nod.

"I see no reason why we should doubt you," he said, his eyes lingering momentarily on Boromir. "It is true, if you wanted to kill any of us, discovering Boromir lost, weak and vulnerable –."

"– Aragorn," said Boromir reproachfully. Livia hid her smile as she heard the humour behind the Ranger's words. Boromir, a warrior, a Captain, all muscular and able to swing a powerful broad sword, found lying helpless because he tripped on a tree root, was now very amusing indeed. And he deserved to be ridiculed in this moment, for not seeing past the old prejudices he had been brought up with.

"– Would have been a perfect time to kill him. What was your mother's name, Livia?"

"A – Ana Tokedgü …"

Aragorn nodded his head, his brow curved with thought.

"Yes …" he said. "I have heard of the name, perhaps from long ago but it is not unfamiliar. Mother of the Strong Good?"

Livia's brown eyes widened slightly but soon glanced down, inward at her own thoughts. "Yes, Aragorn" she said. The Ranger nodded but continued to stare down at her with his shrewd, grey eyes.

"Any lie to us girl, and it will not be Lord Boromir's sword pointed at your throat. I will not have them fall at the actions of a spy that thought they could fool me. But …" he moistened his chapped lips, deep in thought. His tone softened slightly. "Her story is good enough."

Reluctantly, Legolas lifted his bow and Boromir his sword.

"Friend," Boromir said to Aragorn, promptly putting back his sword in its sheath. "I respect your judgment and as a token of trust, Livia …" Livia's eyes snapped up to his face from the ground at the mention of her name. " … I say we have you hand over your weapons, please." He looked at Aragorn, wondering whether his friend would challenge the idea.

"Then I would be wholly satisfied," said Boromir, slightly annoyed by the faint unsure expression on Aragorn's face. Finally, he nodded curtly.

"Very well. What say you Legolas?"

The Elf exchanged glances with Boromir and nodded, clearly for Livia to see.

"But - ?" she began, but was silenced by the looks that Boromir and Legolas gave her. Pursing her lips, she undid the strap of her quiver, produced a small dagger from one of her boots and picked up her bow which lay on the grass.

"As you wish," she muttered as Boromir extended his hand expectantly. "I was never that good with them anyway."

"Yes," said Legolas, "you barely know the difference between an arrow and a stick."

Livia sniffed and drew herself up to her fullest height, which wasn't a lot because she barely came up to Boromir's shoulder. "I will hand over my weapons, only if Gimli keeps them," she said, staring pointedly at the Dwarf, who had chosen to keep out of the situation.

"Gimli?" said Aragorn, soft amusement lighting up his eyes, but the Dwarf drew himself to his full height.

"I will keep them well, Livia," growled Gimli, glancing sideways at Aragorn. "With all the dignity of us Dwarves."

Without comment, Livia handed over her weapons to the Dwarf.

"Yes, let her," said Aragorn as Boromir opened his mouth to object. The Gondorian looked on with an expression of suppressed sullenness, as Gimli slotted curved knives and daggers into the nooks of belts and the folds of hidden pockets. When he knew he could not change the situation, he stalked away and began to stoke the ailing fire.

- - - -

They spoke hardly a word the next morning, as the urgency of their errand drove all other matters from their minds.

"A golden dawn …" murmured Legolas to himself as he poured water on the fire.

"Does that mean a glimmer of hope?" asked Livia, looking up from braiding her hair. He observed her with his unreadable face.

"I cannot tell you, but I would keep hoping," he replied.

At the crack of dawn, they sprinted flat out across the broad, running plains of Rohan.

On the way, Aragorn stopped to pick up something. It was a small leaf-like brooch trodden into the earth.

"Well, I never… not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall…" he breathed, holding the brooch delicately. "They may yet be alive." He turned and smiled at Livia, who was standing behind him, breathing hard. "You were right, miss."

She only smiled gratefully, as she clutched a severe stitch in her side.

They stopped for some time. Aragorn looked from left to right, like a hawk searching for its prey. Quickly, he beckoned for them to come and hide behind a large boulder. The moment they did, a company of nearly two hundred men came thundering down the hill on horseback. They were strange-looking riders, each cloaked in green with yellow hair flying beneath their helmets.

Yet Aragorn seem to recognize them, for he had leapt out from behind the boulder and called out: "Riders of Rohan! What news of the Mark?" The company immediately turned and rode back towards them, circling them like a pack of wolves. Livia observed them warily.

It was only once the horsemen had stopped, with spears pointing at them, that their leader jumped off his horse. He strode over to them, an air of haughtiness in his gait, his face partially hidden by his shiny helmet.

"Who are you and what are you doing in this land?" None of then answered straight away. Livia exchanged anxious glances with Gimli.

The rider grew impatient. "Speak quickly!"

Gimli, who hadn't seemed to notice the others' hesitation, spoke up. "Tell me your name, horse master, and I shall give you mine."

The man drew closer. "I would cut off your head, dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground!" he spat. There was a sudden swish of an arrow and Livia saw Legolas nimbly load his bow, pointing it at the captain. His face, usually so smooth, was creased with anger.

"Do not insult him; you would die before your sword fell!" This outburst caused several riders to close in on them, spears poised.

Aragorn calmly pushed Legolas' arrowhead down, though he still spoke to the captain.

"We mean no harm. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloìn, Boromir, Captain of Gondor, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and er … Livia, a healer from Wilderland." He gestured to each of them in turn as he spoke. "We are long friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king."

"A woman?" said Eomer with a humourless laugh. "You are a strange group indeed. Captain Boromir, I have known of you and of your renowned skill in battle. You claimed victory of Osgiliath?"

Boromir nodded at Eomer. "Yes, Captain Eomer," he said proudly, "and I have heard of great tales of the House of Eorl. Your King Théoden has been a long friend of my father's."

This seemed to settle the tension and the captain sighed and removed his helmet. Strands of dirty blonde hair fell limply to his shoulders. The surrounding Rohirrum did likewise and lowered their weapons.

"Théoden does not recognize friend from foe," he said heavily, "not even his own kin. I am Eomer, son of the king's sister. He banished those loyal to Rohan, for defying his advisor, Grima Wormtongue." He leaned closer. "We fear he is possessed by Saruman. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there they say. Tongues waggle and rumours whisper of an old man, withered and cloaked, and everywhere his spies slips past our guard."

"Then you believe that this Grima is _working_ for Saruman?" said Livia before she could stop herself.

Éomer looked at her sharply. "Yes, I do." Livia quelled slightly from his tense gaze and simply nodded at his words.

Aragorn turned to him. "Perhaps you can aid us. We are trailing a group of Orcs. They have taken two of our friends captive."

Éomer observed him closely, though something flickered in the captain's eyes. "The Orcs are dead," he said slowly. "We slaughtered them all during the night."

Gimli stared at him. "But two hobbits! Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes," said Aragorn, his voice trying to remain calm.

Éomer looked down. "We left none alive."

A horrified hush fell on the Fellowship, their heads bowed. Livia furiously blinked away her tears.

"No," she said breathlessly, "we cannot think they are dead." She looked up imploringly up at Eomer, who cast his eyes away.

"I am sorry, miss," was his gruff reply. He inclined his head and gave a clear whistle. Three strapping horses, a white, bay and palomino, trotted up from the back of the company. Eomer turned back to the grieving Fellowship.

"I am sorry for your loss, but let these steeds bear you to better fortune than their previous riders."

Aragorn thanked him silently, took the bay horse by the reins and swiftly mounted it. Legolas turned to Gimli, greeting the white horse. "Come Gimli, my friend. You shall sit behind me."

The dwarf inclined his ruddy head but eyed the tall steed wearily. "The beast had better not toss me …" he muttered, scrambling onto the horse's back with the help of Legolas. "Not even the proud beasts of this land shall toss a dwarf!"

Boromir and Livia remained. He greeted the Palomino, clutching its reins. "Well, this leaves us two, Miss …" Livia glanced up at him and gave a small nod.

"Yes, shall I sit behind you my Lord?" she asked in an oddly polite voice. Boromir laughed softly to himself.

"Yes" he replied, helping her to mount the steed. "And hold on tight."

As she mounted, Livia felt inwardly grateful that he was no longer treating her with any mistrust. Perhaps now he was convinced and wise enough to lay aside any stubborn doubts.

Eomer, the captain, remounted his own steed and tugged it sternly by the reins.

"I will not say do not look for your friends," he said to Aragorn. "But do not hope. It has forsaken these lands." He then addressed the Rohirrim loudly.

"We ride North! Hyaa!"

Livia caught one last glimpse of them, as the Fellowship began to canter up the wrinkled slope of the bank and out of sight.

- - - -

They reached a large mound of burnt carcasses piled up on top of each other. Immediately, Aragorn jumped from his horse and raced over to the pile, dread and fear etched on his face. A single orc's head was impaled cleanly on a spear, sticking crudely out of the ground. He began to rummage frantically through the carcasses, while everyone else called for Merry and Pippin.

Eventually, Gimli found something and handed it to Aragorn. Livia glanced over and saw it was a charred belt yet strange, intricate carvings could still be seen. Aragorn stared at it for a moment, and then let out a terrible, wild scream full of anger and grief, kicking a helmet, and then falling to his knees.

"We failed them," said Boromir, his voice breaking. Legolas went over and patted him softly on the back. Suddenly, something caught Aragorn's attention. He was bent over on the dusty ground, examining the soil closely.

"The earth has been disturbed … a small figure. A Hobbit, perhaps lay here."

"What?" said Boromir sharply, hurrying over and kneeling beside Aragorn. "Look, a rope. They were bound - ."

" – and it was cut."

" – and the trail leads …"

Both men paused and stared ahead of them at a huge, dense mass of trees.

"Fangorn forest," they said in astounded unison. Both men looked at each other, surprise written on their faces.

Gimli gasped. "What possessed them to go into such a place?"

"Who knows," said Livia, walking over. "But it offers a lot of hiding places from unfriendly attackers."

"Come," replied Aragorn, getting to his feet.

Gimli and Livia followed the rushing trio into the winding trees.

- - - - -

Fangorn forest unnerved Livia. Never had a place felt so eerie and unwelcoming. Great, mossy branches hung like truncheons and arms, as if blocking their way, and winding roots stuck up from the ground, making their path difficult and uneven. Only Legolas seemed to have ease passing over them.

"This place is so … dismal," grunted Livia to herself as she observed a knotted clump of roots, resembling a clenched fist. Beside her, Gimli nodded in agreement.

"Do not insult them," warned a voice in her ear. Legolas stood near looking tense. "They can hear you."

"Who?"

"The trees …"

Gimli let out a laugh which he hastily turned into a cough. "Listening trees eh? They have brains? And what would bother them? A mass problem of squirrel droppings?" He and Leafia exchanged looks of amusement, but there was a sudden, ominous creaking around them. Gimli clutched his axe.

"Put down your axe, Gimli," said Legolas, who had evidently heard the dwarf's comment.

"What? Have the trees heard me?'"

"No …" the elf's voice dropped an octave, sounding elusive. "The White Wizard approaches …"

Livia looked up and saw Aragorn silently indicating for them to load their weapons. Gimli clenched his axe, Legolas was loading his bow and he and Boromir slowly drew their swords. Livia automatically looked at Gimli, who seemed to read her frightened face. Casually, he delved into the folds of his cloak and retrieved a set of curved knives which Livia carefully took behind Boromir's back. She then tactfully shifted to the back of the group with both weapons clenched tightly behind her back. Suddenly, a bright light bathed them all and they shielded their eyes from its blinding glare. A figure, like a ghost, appeared on a mound of rocks.

Each of the group clung tightly onto their weapons, ready to strike – there was a whistling and Legolas fired an arrow. But with a flash of light, it was instantly repelled. Aragorn let out a grunt of pain and she saw that the sword in his hands was glowing, as if it had come out of a blacksmith's furnace and he immediately let go.

"Who are you?" demanded Aragorn angrily, rubbing his leg fiercely.

"You know who I am," rumbled a low, powerful voice. Livia felt her legs begin to shake. Was it the dreaded Saruman? Her heart was pounding rapidly … she wanted to run … what use were two steel knives against the might of such a potent Wizard?

"Where are the hobbits? Speak!"

"They came by here and ran into someone they did not expect." This sentence was left hanging in the air. Livia looked uncertainly at Gimli, who shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Who – who are you?" enquired Aragorn, stepping closer.

The light began to fade steadily and a man draped in white garments appeared. A staff was clenched in his gnarled hands …

"It cannot be …" Aragorn said in a strangled voice, falling to his knees. Livia felt awed and she too, knelt humbly to the forest floor. For his presence was similar to Alatar's, described by her mother years ago from her childhood and now, she could fully appreciate why so many people followed and learned from him.

"Forgive me, I believed you to be Saruman…" Legolas whispered, his blue eyes shining like crystals in the glow emanating from the Maia wizard.

The man smiled indulgently. "I am Saruman, or … as he should have been."

Aragorn rose and clasped his shoulder, embracing him like a brother. "Gandalf…"

Gandalf's brow crinkled with the faintest confusion.

"Gandalf?"

He said the name as if he had long forgotten it. "Yes, that was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey…" a smile flickered across his lips, "I am Gandalf the White."

Aragorn looked thunderstruck. "But you fell. How did you survive?"

Gandalf sighed.

"I fell through fire, and water, fighting the Balrog. Then we came to the highest peak, and there I cast the creature back into shadow. Darkness took me, and I knew nothing. Then there was light, and I awoke. I was alive. I have returned only to fulfill my purpose, and that is to help Frodo. I am here only for that." It was at this moment that he noticed Livia. "And who is this?"


	4. Gandalf's Grilling

_Thank you to all my reviewers, and for patiently waiting for this next chapter! Christmas is a very busy time! _

_And as ever, I urge you to put forth any constructive criticism you can give. Thanks!_

Chapter Four

Gandalf's Grilling

A braver woman than Livia would have looked up respectfully at the Wizard before her, but the young woman focused on a tree root and refused to meet his eyes that observed her closely.

"Livia Tokedgü," she said.

"Tokedgü?" Gandalf repeated, with thought. "I know this name."

Aragorn spoke up. "I too my friend, when I travelled to the Eastern Lands. Its meaning is – "

"– Of the Strong Good … yes." Gandalf moistened his upper lip. He looked away from Aragorn and regarded Livia fully with his shrewd, blue eyes. "Aragorn is correct in saying you are from the East, and you appear as what you say you are. Your cloth is unfamiliar, your hair darker in hue and sloe eyes which are sharp of glance. Yet why you are here confuses me."

Livia felt even more unsettled as she heard Gandalf scrutinize her appearance. She was aware that she was still holding her knives. With an anxious glance upward, she laid them on the ground before the feet of the tall wizard.

"Tokedgu is my family's name, Mithrandir. We are from Khand, but are in allegiance to Alatar the Blue."

Gandalf inclined his head. "Ithryn Luin?"

"Yes, that's what the Bardings called him," replied Livia, "I have heard the Elvish name for the Istari from my part." Yet as she answered, she still avoided Gandalf's gaze.

"This makes more sense," said Gandalf thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "Little knowledge remains of the Blue Wizards' work, particularly in these times." He looked questioningly at Livia and when she still stared at the tree root, he grew impatient. "Look at me, girl."

Livia's head shot up, as if pulled up forcibly by an invisible rope. She stared straight into his face and Gandalf's stern features softened.

"You needn't fear me," he said. "Please, what is your tale?"

With this request, Livia launched into her story about why she had left Khand, and about how her mother was renowned for her profound teachings of Alatar's word. Gandalf simply nodded and listened, allowing Livia to talk into silence. And when she reached the part of mentioning her mother's death, he bowed his head sympathetically.

"A great loss," he said. "But her spirit sits with honour with her forefathers."

At this, Livia smiled weakly and she felt sudden warmth toward the wizard. The fact that he knew her Mother, seemed to form an internal, unspoken bond, because he too had conenctions with her past life which now seemed so far away ... "Thank you, Mithrandir," she said. "t was her time and also my time to leave the Bardings and travel on my own. To reach the highest grade of healer status I needed to achieve self-discovery. And as I have said before, much of the Shadow was seen marked upon the land."

"Yes," nodded Gandalf, "your mother did the same thing as you to achieve her status. That is why she is so trusted. I believe her profound knowledge in _Nigelok Selkor_, is greatly valued?"

"Yes," Livia replied, her confidence growing and faintly delighted Gandalf knew her mother's teachings. "The Healing Herbs of Khand, discovered by Mother, are now widespread in Rhovanion."

Gandalf smiled. "So Alatar told me when last we met. I believe your tale. You are your mother's daughter. Her and Alatar's legacy continues. You left so you could follow that line, taking it upon yourself to bravely travel alone, even in these times." Gandalf regarded the Fellowship. "Yet, tell me, Aragorn … why is it she travels with _you_?"

Aragorn glanced up as his name was called. "It is so that she is out of dangerous parts," he replied staidly. "There's nowhere between Fangorn and Edoras that's safe for her."

Gandalf peered down his nose, listening intently. He nodded wisely once again.

"And yet …" he pressed, allowing the sentence to trail off enigmatically. His blue eyes flew to Livia. "You did not expect to run into _such _company?" She frowned faintly up at him, out of the corner of her eye she saw sensed saw the fellowship exchange dubious glances. What did Mithrandir mean?

"We have not told her," Aragorn informed Gandal quickly.

"A wise choice," said he. Livia twisted her head from Aragorn to Gandalf, as if both wizard and man were throwing a ball. "Livia, do you know the real reason behind this grouping of two Men, an Elf and Dwarf, clad in Elvish attire wandering these lands?" She shook her head slowly, waiting patiently for the answer. Truthfully, she did not know at all and was inwardly eager to discover. "They set out from Rivendell to destroy the Ring," he paused enigmatically, "The Ring of Sauron."

Livia felt her insides curl with curiosity. Her glum face split into a wide smile, failing to disguise the inner zeal which was shining in her eyes. The Ring of Sauron? Had she heard correctly? Surely not! _The _fabled Ring that was spoken with hushed respect and fear in her lands ...

"As fate would have it," she said genially, clamping her hands together. "You seek to destroy Sauron and I am against his ways, even though I am from a land which is full of his allies." Her eyes swivelled to each member of the Fellowship. "Well, which one of you has the ring?"

"None of us," said Aragorn, his voice like steel. Livia cowed, knowing that her request was bordering on greed. She thought she saw the Ranger's eyes linger on Boromir momentarily, who had suddenly become fascinated with examining his boots.

"The Ring bearer himself is travelling to Mordor to get rid of it," said Gimli steadily. "Two Hobbits. We told you of this before, but not entirely - "

" - Yes," said Livia through gritted teeth, trying to gain her composure and ignoring the heat in her cheeks. "I know this."

"They are Frodo and Sam," continued Gimli as if Livia had not spoken. "We are on an errand searching for Merry and Pippin. They were taken by those strange creatures at Amon Hen."

" I know …"

A silence fell among the Fellowship, as their minds turned back to the reason why they were in the ancient forest. Aragorn stared hard at Gandalf, who was actually smiling.

"You need not worry about Merry and Pippin, Aragorn," he said pleasantly, his eyes glinting keenly beneath the brim of his hat. "They are safe as they ran into someone they did not expect." He chuckled softly to himself. "They were brought to Fangorn and their coming is like a turning of the tides. Nowhere is entirely safe. We cannot leave you here in Fangorn, no … no. The next civilised part which we must travel to is Edoras, where King Théoden's mind is overthrown by Saruman."

----------

The Fellowship now walked through the forest. Aragorn was absorbed in conversation with Gandalf, telling them all that happened since his departure. Livia once again brought up the rear, watching Gandalf listen intently to the Ranger's words. She shifted uncomfortably as they both peered behind, quickly regarding her solitary state. Where they speaking about her? Had Gandalf unearthed some rogue fact and was beginning to doubt her? And possibly, and Livia hated to assume it, was she simply a pawn in their quest to destroy the Ring, because she was from the formidable East?

"At one with your thoughts, lass?" a voice said. It was Gimli.

Livia glanced at him and saw that he was smiling. Was her quiet state that obvious?

"Nay, not as such. Yet I hope that each of you are able to trust me now … from what has been said."

Gimli gave a dark chuckle. "We can trust you now that the Wizard has given you a thorough talking to. We do not doubt him, yet even after death I would assume he has not tired of his riddles." He bared a grin beneath his beard and Livia laughed jovially.

"Well, who knows?" said she. "Each of us have our tales, Master Dwarf; each more wondrous as the next."

Gimli chortled. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the stories of Moria."

"Sometime maybe," Livia, smiling down at him, "I would like to hear them."

Gimli looked most surprised. "Would you? But miss, they are not for young ladies. They are dark and - "

"Speak of the victories then."

A smile spread athwart the Dwarf's face. "It would be an honour."

The group reached the outskirts of the wood, and Livia saw the sweeping plains through the cracks in the trees. More sunlight was pouring onto the ground and she savoured the feel of it on her face.

"We must make haste," said Gandalf, who was now shrouded in a thick, grey travelling cloak. "Edoras is in danger. The threat of Saruman is now at its highest peak."

Livia nodded unconsciously but raised her eyebrows at the enormous, stretching plains before her. Travel to Edoras would take weeks on foot! (And her feet were already smothered with blisters). Months even … was it just _she _who noticed that they were three horses short? They had been frightened at the prospect of entering Fangorn, by a mysterious white figure. At the time the Fellowship had thought it was Saruman, but now she wondered if it hadn't been Gandalf

She opened her mouth to express her confusion when Gandalf whistled melodically.

At first, Livia felt taken aback but then she regarded the harmonious, almost ethereal sound. It was as calming as the sea, caressing a vast golden shore yet as strong as the waves, tossing a lone, empty vessel. All doubt was erased from her mind. The whistle was a call … a summoning of something mighty yet gentle …

And sure enough, there was a faint neigh and a magnificent white stallion cantered into view, atop the horizon. But it was not alone … Legolas' grey horse Arod, Aragorn's bay Hasufel and the palomino Frea, brought up the rear. But these steeds were nothing compared to their companion. The new horse seemed to emanate its own glow, despite the brightness of the day, bathing the three other horses out of sight.

It trotted to Gandalf's sound, who stroked the stallion's nuzzle affectionately.

"Shadowfax, my dear friend," said Gandalf, as the others greeted their steeds. "You are a long way from Rivendell, yes, you are, but you and I have always been faithful friends in the most troublesome of times. And now, I ask of you to aid us on our errand to Edoras, your homeland, where alas King Theoden is in need of help." The horse's head gave a small jerk which to Livia presumed was a nod. She smiled at it.

"He is one of the Mearas," said Legolas softly, gazing admiringly at the horse whilst stroking his own. "Lord of all horses."

Gandalf nodded and despite his wizened appearance, leapt onto the horse's back with the strength of a much younger person. The Fellowship followed suit; Aragorn mounted Hasufel the bay, Legolas and Gimli, who struggled slightly, sat upon Arod the grey horse.

Boromir steered Livia to the palomino. He gazed down at her as he mounted. "Well … you have passed the test, Miss." Livia fought to roll her eyes and accepted Boromir's hand to help her ascend into the saddle. She felt how calloused his palms were …

"It was nice that Gandalf didn't turn me into anything to gain information," she replied sweetly, holding tight around his waist. "By no means … of …" she coughed lightly, "… _brute force._"

"Well … no," said Boromir, completely unabashed, "you wouldn't have been much use if you were a frog or anything unnatural." He turned and tilted an eyebrow at her, at which Livia snorted.

"Hmm," she said broodingly. "Thank goodness _you're _not a Wizard." The idea of Boromir, the happy-sword wielding captain of Gondor being a Wizard was simply laughable. Goodness only knows what he would be capable of. And she was very glad the Gondorian didn't have the power to read her thoughts!

Boromir cottoned on and chuckled to himself, assembling the reins. He then trotted the horse over to the others.

"Come now," said Gandalf atop Shadowfax, his white hair blowing in the breeze. "We must ride to Edoras, to help them in this hour of need."


	5. Diving into Edoras

_I am really sorry for not posting in ages, due to my mum passing away. But I'm back to writing now, and I hope this chapter makes up for it's lateness! reviews/CC are all welcome!_

_I'm now on LiveJournal, to check out my page just click on the homepage. :) _

Chapter Five: Diving into Edoras 

Riding to Edoras was no picnic, especially when you had a burly Gondorian steering the reins. For two days, they travelled across the wild Westemnet, stopping only to make camp, but even that was short-lived, for at the crack of dawn, they were off again. It was very tiring.

On the third day, the White Mountains loomed into view, and Gandalf slowed Shadowfax to inform the others that Edoras would appear over the grassy knoll they were riding up. Livia suppressed a sigh of relief, and stared at Boromir's back.

"Boromir," she said hoarsely, "can I ride for a while?"

She felt him stiffen.

"No … thank you, Miss Livia," he said politely as Aragorn glanced at him, "Edoras is not far."

If she hadn't been feeling so frustrated and tired, she would have accepted his answer. But she wouldn't. So what if Aragorn had looked at him? Did status really matter in this group?

She gazed darkly at the ground.

"I am no stranger to riding, Boromir," she said, "please, my back is really sore."

Boromir's head turned to Aragorn, but the ranger was absorbed in conversation with Gandalf. No-one had heard their discussion.

"Livia," he said curtly, barely moving his lips. "It … it … " He hunted for words. "The horse will slow down if my weight is placed on its dock." He forced a smile. "There would be an imbalance."

"An imbalance of status, you mean," said Livia hotly. She had not meant to say it; for a moment Boromir's face flickered but he simply turned away, leaving Livia feeling foolish and angry. Tchah! she thought to herself, while the company galloped to the top of the knoll, she was tired and all she wanted was to ride for a few hours, but Lord Boromir had _precedence_ – . Maybe she still hadn't got the measure of him – yes, he was frustratingly stubborn but battling his pride was beyond nuisance.

Livia remained royally unamused till they reached a large hill sticking up like a thumb from the ground. When they drew near, she saw the mountain was dotted with wooden houses and flags crested with horses that swayed in the morning breeze.

The place had a rather primitive air; not bustling nor flanked with stalls that Livia had once seen in Sturlurtsa, the capital of Khand. That city had many winding streets, filled with merchants, tailors and farmers bellowing their produce to the crowds in attempt to gain their interest. There was always a new smell enriching the breeze from taverns or people's houses, but here the people stopped and stared in their daily activities. Their expressions were grave and suspicious, as they watched their procession.

Livia narrowed her eyes, spotting an old woman point at her; she muttered something to her friend and they both nodded in agreement. What was so strange about her? Surely her being a Variag was not so obvious … or perhaps she was the only woman amidst such a strange group of people.

Legolas rode up, and Livia saw Gimli eye the citizens of Edoras churlishly.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard," he muttered, his beard quivering. Livia nodded, her jaw set.

"I feel unsettled. Perhaps they know I am not from round here," she said quietly. "Do they know of the Easterlings from the South -"

"Enough," growled Boromir suddenly. Livia blinked. "Do not say things from your part near these people. They get spooked. Our group of men, elves, dwarves and _women _is strange enough." He laughed dryly and tugged on the reigns reins.

Livia said nothing, but understood; people were very superstitious and could assume all sorts of things. She stared up at the top of the mountain and saw stone hewn steps which led to a large hall. Standing outside it was a figure with golden hair; it swayed sinuously in the breeze and seemed to glow in the dullness of the day …

Livia watched, intrigued. She smiled slightly and gazed around her; the sun had broken through a mantle of clouds and shone upon a small body of water concealed behind some huts. A pregnant woman was washing some clothes, while three children played nearby …

There was a scream.

Livia looked wildly around her. A young girl knocked past Boromir's horse, causing it to fall back from the others.

"Watch it!" shouted Boromir, as the palomino began to rear. Livia turned to see the girl dashing to the pond. There was another scream, and immediately, recognised it as a child's.

Without thinking, she leapt off the horse, landed splay legged on the ground and felt a sharp stone rip her knee.

"Livia!" shouted Boromir, trying to steady the rearing horse. "What are you doing?"

"There's a child drowning!" she cried. Blood poured from her leg. "Look!"

Boromir looked to where she was pointing, and saw the young girl tearing to the pond. And thrashing in the water like a freshly caught fish was not one child, but three children screaming for dear life. Without further ado, he turned his horse and cantered to the pond. He was the first to reach and jumped off his horse.

"Move aside!" he yelled to the pregnant woman who was gazing at him with wide, fearful eyes, "move aside I say!"

"What are you - ?" exclaimed the young girl. "Help us! Help us! They cannot swim!" She pointed helplessly to the thrashing children. "And neither can I! Everyone else is up at Meduseld where the king is –"

"I will go," Boromir told the girl tersely, cutting through her frantic babbling. "But I need you to wait on the bank."

The girl simply nodded, tears rolling down her eyes. Boromir was about to reach the bank when there was a splash; Livia had jumped in.

"Livia!" yelled Boromir. Hastily, he ripped off his cloak and dived into the pond.

Livia's head bobbed above the surface, the cold water cutting at her insides. She took a deep breath and swam over to the smallest of the children, a young girl with black hair, who was fighting to keep her body above the icy surface.

"Hold – my arm," she rasped, as she swam closer, but she could feel herself sinking due to the weight of her clothes. Gods! She cursed, why could she not be a stronger swimmer? There were no lakes in Khand; all was scrubland and desert and she had only learned to swim a few years ago while she stayed with the Bardings. And the fact that she could not touch the bottom of the pond unnerved her even more. However, she paddled to the screaming child.

"Hold - me," she said again, flailing an arm. Somewhere to her left, she saw Boromir scooping a young girl onto his back with frustrating ease.

"Livia!" he shouted for what was the hundredth time, "grab the child!"

I'm trying! she thought furiously, but as soon as she reached the girl, the child grabbed her and she sank underwater.

_No!_

It got worse; the frightened girl seized Livia's neck, blocking out the air. She waved her feet frantically, and with a surge of energy, resurfaced. She spat out a lot of water, clutching the thrashing girl around the waist. "Come on," she spluttered, to the girl, but before she could swim with her free arm, Boromir swam towards her; a boy and a crying girl holding his muscular arms.

"Give the child to me," he said, water dripping into his eyes, "give – it."

She shook her head. "You have too -," her head sank under the water again, "- many."

"Swim to shore then," he said.

"I'm … trying …"

For a split second, Boromir looked inclined to help Livia, but when the boy on his arm shrieked with terror, he turned and swam ahead. However, a large log blocked his path, and the boy, in a transport of fear, leapt off his back onto it.

Boromir turned desperately.

"Get on my back!" he cried but the boy simply sobbed, clinging onto the log for dear life.

Livia didn't' see this. She was swimming, but the girl had grabbed her face and so only her mouth was visible above the water, gulping for air like an oddly shaped fish. Suddenly, she heard Boromir's voice.

"Livia, get over here!" he yelled in a panicked voice. "Hold the log!"

She forced her body upwards, and paddled over.

"What?" she gasped, "I – was swimming – to shore." She quickly eyed the young boy on the log and frightened girl clutching his arm.

"You were practically drowning! We need to both bring this child to shore," said Boromir angrily. "Come on! I'll help you swim! Because this girl cannot!"

The boy on the log lapsed into more tears. His drenched blonde hair hung like rat's tails in his face.

"Why don't you drag the log to shore?" Livia said thickly, as more water rushed into her mouth.

"It's the size of a horse!" yelled Boromir, above the boy's renewed screams of terror. "Grab the boy on the log, and I'll hold his other arm."

"Do it - quick then …" Livia kicked her feet hard, which was getting difficult as the girl on her neck was pressing tightly on her windpipe. She vaguely noted that the child had several red dots on her arms. When she reached the weeping boy, she forced him off the log with a flailing hand.

"Get – off!" she gasped, pulling the boy off by the leg. He landed in the water with a splash, and the pregnant woman and teenage girl at the bank gasped with horror, but Livia plunged down and brought the boy to the surface.

"Boromir, grab his other arm!"

Boromir, now free of the log swam over, but instead of holding the boy's other arm, scooped him up in the middle and swam smartly to shore.

"Boromir!" Livia screamed, flapping her hands about like a windmill. "Why did you do – that?" The child on her neck pressed tighter, and now Livia lost her train of thought. Gods!. Boromir, she thought, why did he have to lie? Was the Gondorian again consumed by his pride and underestimating her strength … she was no solider … On and on she swam, not caring she looked stupid … her feet touched a stony bank … she was lying down … her gaze grew fuzzy.

- - - - -

Someone was slapping her face.

Her eyes snapped open, and Livia doubled over as she coughed up water from her lungs. Boromir, a teenage girl and a pregnant women stared down at her; including the wretched child that had grabbed her windpipe.

"Are you alive?" Boromir asked, with a ghost of a smile. Something in Livia snapped.

"You …" she rasped, staggering to her feet so suddenly that Boromir blinked. "You ... swam to shore without me!" She squinted at him darkly, pointing at him with a shaking arm.

"Well, you should have thought about jumping in, if you could not swim that well," Boromir replied in a matter-of-fact tone, eyeing Livia's bloody knee. Her eyes flashed, but before she could speak, a rotund man with gleaming cheeks strode over to them both.

"You saved my children," he said in a reedy voice. "You saved them!" He beamed at the three yellow-haired children that were being dried down with woollen shawls by the teenage girl. "Alas, they are not well! Being in that cold water much longer would have killed them. It was a miracle you were nearby, good sir. I myself was busy tending to the horses, as Folcred the Stable Master should."

Livia inspected the three children closely and saw that they each had red spots covering their skin.

"Why – were they out if they – are not well?" asked Livia, rubbing her arms as her teeth began to chatter.

Folcred smiled foolishly.

"They sneak out," he said, as if he was explaining a joyous day of weather, "but for this, they will be punished." He glared at the children in turn, his manner switching alarmingly. "Gárulf, Gárwine and you, Hilda," he barked, "your mother will be most displeased."

"Please sir, do not punish them," said Boromir, who was tying his cloak around his shoulders. "They are safe now."

Folcred moistened his mouth, surveying Boromir closely. His beady eyes swivelled to his broad sword, leather jerkin, and the elaborate patterns on his tunic.

"You are not from here," he said with polite curiousness.

"No," said Boromir conversationally, "I am Boromir, Captain of Gondor – "

"Lord Boromir?" exclaimed the man with unmasked surprise. His cheeks turned redder. "Oh my goodness. Sir? What are you doing here? We have heard of your greatness …. Your victory at Osgiliath was good news – and – and," Folcred hunted for words, "I – it is an honour that my spawn was saved by you. " He drew breath and gave a small bow. "We are most indebted!"

"It is a small matter." said Boromir, now tying up his belt.

Folcred's gaze landed on Livia, who was curled up on a wall, pale, wet and holding her cloak tight to her body. She glanced up at Folcred and Boromir.

"And who is this?" he asked.

"This is Livia, Healer of the Bardings," he said, gesturing to her, but it only emphasised her dishevelled, less-than-grand state compared to the now fully dressed, standing Boromir. "She is my acquaintance."

"Oh …" said the man. Livia hiccupped into her hands, "well … she helped you save my children, so I offer my thanks, Miss."

Boromir smiled appreciatively, and with a nod to the man walked over to Livia, who was observing the Rohirric man with a disgruntled look. She sighed, but could not suppress the hurt that Boromir had been given the credit for saving the children. Yes, it had been silly to jump in when she could not swim that well, but did not bravery count for more? And she and he _certainly _could not work well together.

She glanced up at Boromir, who had obviously not understood the expression on her face …

"Come, we must get ourselves dry," he said kindly, helping her up. Livia merely nodded, and accepted Boromir's arm around her shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

"Wet … and cold ..." she grunted, pulling her cloak closer to her form as an icy wind whipped her face. She sneezed.

They walked up to the great hall in companionable silence, when a group of people began to descend the large steps. Livia saw Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas and Gimli's helmet, behind a staggering man who held a sword in his hand. He seemed to be pursuing something … or someone.

There was a shriek of pain; two guards tossed a dark form down the steps.

"Argh! I've only ever served you, my lord," cried the voice of a man crawling on the ground. The staggering man bore down upon him, a savage glint in his eyes.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" he snarled, the wind whipping his white hair. A golden crown was set upon his head, and Livia dimly assumed this must be King Théoden. Looks like Gandalf released him of his demons, she mused.

"Send me not from your side!" begged the man on the ground.

The white-haired. man took no notice, and to Livia's alarm, swung his mighty blade into the air. It was about to strike down when Aragorn shot forth, and held the King's arm.

"No, my lord! No, my lord. Let him go," Livia heard him implore. "Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Something in the King's eyes stirred as he stared at Aragorn's face. Slowly, he lowered his sword, and Aragorn offered his arm to the cringing figure on the ground. The man rose, like a hulking beast, and spat at the Ranger's hand.

He then turned on his heel and made his way furiously towards the crowds.

"Get out of my way!" he snarled.

He pushed past Livia, who almost toppled to the floor. What a foul man! she thought as he hastily mounted a black gelding and cantered away, greasy hair gleaming in the sunlight. Without another thought, she followed Boromir towards the steps, where Aragorn cried out to the people of Rohan:

"Hail, Théoden, King!"

The people of Rohan, who had also watched this scene, all kneeled down. Knowing it would be best to follow suit, Livia bowed uncertainly beside Boromir.

"There you both are!" shouted a hearty voice. Gimli trudged down the steps to the sodden Boromir and Livia. "What – why are you wet?" his smile fell when Livia began to shiver. "Livia … are you alright?"

"I've been better," Livia sighed, accepting Gimli's comforting pat on her arm. "Need … some rest, I would think."

"Yes, yes, definitely!" Gimli declared. "You look a fright." The Dwarf then eyed Boromir shrewdly. "Do you know how you both became so wet, Boromir? I do not think going for a swim is particularly wise." Before Boromir could reply, King Théoden turned to where they stood; no doubt Gimli's loud, growling voice had caught the old King's attention. He eyed Boromir and Livia closely, yet before they could break this awkward moment, Gandalf appeared.

"We told you that there were two others with us, King Théoden," he said in his calming voice, blue eyes slightly amused at the sight before him. "This here is Boromir, Captain of Gondor, Guard of the Citadel, and Livia, a healer of Wilderland."

King Théoden pondered this for a moment, and when Livia drew closer, she saw the King looked extremely woebegone. His pale eyes were rheumy with age, large bags had formed under the sockets and visible lines crinkled his mouth.

"Captain Boromir …" he mumbled slowly, as he gazed at Livia, "I know … this name. Your father and I are great … allies. " He looked as if he was about to elaborate when his gaze strayed to the group of people around him. A few of the citizens bowed deeper when his gaze crossed them, but the King seemed to have eyes only for a person who could not yet dissect from the crowd.

"Where is my son?" he murmured. "Where is Theodred?"


End file.
